Snapshot

A camera lens’ reflection, 
Is the chisel to the stone…

The marker of immortality;

The proof of skin and bone.

A documented memory,

The snapshot of one’s mind…

An only surviving relic,

The changing world left behind.

Gears

There are gears in my turntable, watch and car,

They run things in my life, not god…

I’m a particle in a world of chaos;

In life’s machinery, I’m only a cog.

Some gears tally the minutes,

As others control just our speed…

Gears can grind up a human’s soul,

Feeding another man’s greed.

Muscular gears can move mountains,

Minute ones cause life to begin…

Many mesh well and move perfectly,

And quietly, in a futile spin.